Yoga, Essential Oils, and the Oracle Ibis

Q's latest post made me laugh out loud.  That is good writing.  Tell me, if you can, the literary influences on that.  You have to steal and steal and steal and then one day you just have your own.  Bam!

He pisses me off.  I won't even try to compete with him today.  I haven't slept well for a while.  I'm dopey and more. . . or less.  I will just concede defeat for the day.  I'm big that way, always generous, always kind.  I'm just a little petty.

It all works out.

No segue.  Ibises have descended on my yard.  I've lived here for more than a decade and don't remember ever having them around.  Yesterday when I went out, one was perched upon my car's roof racks.  It was like something from an old dream.  We stood looking at one another for a time.  I expected him to speak first I guess, but he didn't, so I said, "Listen, I have to go to work, so if you are going to say something, you need to do it now."  He looked at me as if I were stupid, like I should already know what it was he was saying.  Those fucking beaks don't make any sense and maybe they make speaking difficult.  That would explain a lot.  So I stood a while longer just looking at him.  Eventually, he turned and took his awkward flight.

I have a new friend who is becoming a yoga instructor.  Everybody is becoming a yoga instructor, I know, but I like her so watch what you say.  Besides, she has an aura.  Shut up.  Anyway (as my mother likes to insert in the middle of my stories), she had to take a "course" in numerology.  She asked me some questions and rolled the bones and came up with all sorts of insights into my character  I'm not sure how it works, but I think she cast a spell.  I've been walking in a kind of dreamland since.  I'm starting to like the smell of essential oils again.  She's unlocked a cabinet of old secrets I'd forgotten.  It is dangerous to go mucking about in such things, I know. . . I know.  

If I could only figure out what the Ibis was trying to tell me.  It didn't look good.